bang, said the duck

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For the first time in a long time I was unable to fall asleep last night. Usually my head touches the pillow and I'm out for the count, but last night Sleep was elsewhere. Sunday always used to be a night that Insomnia would lead Sleep astray - to the extent that I was taking any old pills I could find in the cupboard, like Tramadol or Clonazepam - but in more recent years Sleep has refused to play Insomnia's silly games. I imagine Work is playing a big role in this. He is somewhat stressed and unhappy. Things are afoot and there is much bickering, snapping and crying going on in the department. But also, I have not had any calming, stress-easing chocolate since Friday. I must whip a batch up tonight. I think I must have drifted off to Nod at about one-thirty, and was then rather rudely awakened at quarter to five by a loud bang. What the eff?! I exclaimed in a most ladylike manner. I lay there, assuming the worst. Earthquake. Burglar. Nuclear bomb. Husband went to the loo, came back and informed me that once again, I cannot leave the bathroom window open when the blinds are drawn; a gust of wind had knocked everything off the window sill. *sigh* But hey, not the end of the world, so all is good. And speaking of the end of the world, has anybody seen the telly box show, The End of the F***ing World? If not, may I kindly suggest you watch it. It is poignant, beautiful, sad, dramatic, funny, relatable, adorable, shocking, all rolled up into a ball of amazing. Honestly. We binged the second series this weekend. Such loveliness.